


Christmas Advent Prompt Fills

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Magic Kaitou, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 14,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas Advent prompt fills from Tumblr. :D?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Hot Cocoa - Respite

**Author's Note:**

> Set in various 'verses of mine as noted. :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim looks up at the light tap on his window, corner of his mouth curving upward at the ridiculous faces Dick pulls at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [Drake Investigations](http://archiveofourown.org/series/21207) 'verse.

Tim looks up at the light tap on his window, corner of his mouth curving upward at the ridiculous faces Dick pulls at him. When he gets up he sees movement further behind Dick, short, sharp – irritated - and bites back a grin as he slides the window up. A few snowflakes swirl through the open window as Dick leans forward to press his face against Tim's.

Tim rolls his eyes at the sensation of cold - cheeks, nose, - and Dick's quiet laughter as Tim shivers, but doesn't push him away, “Jerk,” Tim says.

Dick hums, perching on the windowsill, tipping his head towards Tim's open laptop. “Good night?”

Tim shrugs. He's going over invoices and manifests, looking for something that might lead him in the right direction on the case he's working on. (Waiting for Dick to make his usual visit.) “The usual.”

That gets a thoughtful hum, Dick reaching for Tim just as his shadow clears its throat loudly. 

“ _Grayson_.”

Dick sighs, pulling back from Tim with an apologetic smile. “See you later?” 

“Later,” Tim agrees, handing the thermoses of hot cocoa on a nearby side table to Dick. (Alfred's recipe, although Dick tells him that Damian insists it doesn't taste quite right.)

Dick grins and tucks them away, darting in for a quick kiss before slipping through the window. Tim watches Dick toss one of the thermoses to Damian before they head back on patrol. (A few hours more and Dick will be back and they can call it a night.)


	2. Day 2: Caroling - Frame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mr. Drake, fancy meeting you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [Photography AU](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/search/photography+au) that I will actually write one day. ~~Probably.~~ :D?

They're early enough that they've managed to get good parking, and yet late enough that they have to wade through a fairly large crowd to get to the staging area. There are strings of white Christmas lights hung up and tasteful decorations interspersed with carefully handmade ones from the schoolkids participating in the fundraiser that gives the area a warm, welcoming atmosphere.

“Maybe if you hadn't had a fashion crisis,” Cullen mutters, squeezing past a group of people who don't seem inclined to move from their spot.

“It wasn't a fashion crisis,” Tim says, pitching his voice low to keep it from carrying. “I don't know why - “

Tim barely keeps from running into Cullen when he stops suddenly, a quiet laugh escaping him as he catches sight of the reason. 

“Mr. Drake, fancy meeting you here.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Indeed, Mr. Grayson, what are the odds?” (Fairly good, actually, since Tim was contracted to photograph the night's events.)

There's an impatient huff beside him, Cullen carrying the bulk of the equipment and not in the mood to watch Tim and Dick flirt badly. (It's the only way they know how to, actually.)

“Go on ahead,” Tim says. “I have to go over a few things with Mr. Grayson.”

Cullen makes a face at Tim for that before he scurries off because yes, Tim is a horrible boss and an even worse human being. Tim knows this. He also knows that Cullen suffers endlessly due to the demands Tim places on him, and Tim should appreciate that fact. (He does, even if the so-called demands are more along the lines of politely worded requests.)

Tim turns back to Dick, smiling faintly. “You're ridiculous, you know.”

Dick shrugs and adjusts the reindeer antlers he's wearing. “'Tis the season?” he tries, but no, Dick's always ridiculous.

There's a burst of raucous laughter somewhere in the distance. No doubt it's Brucie entertaining the masses, keeping them from getting restless while the schoolkids get ready to go caroling with Gotham's social elite for charity. (That, or tormenting them. It's all the same thing in the end with him, really.)

“That's a lovely sweater you're wearing,” Dick says, as though it's not a hideous Christmas sweater the schoolkids sent Tim as a thank-you present for coming to career day. 

“Your antlers are stunning,” Tim says, wondering how far Dick is going to take this.

Dick's mouth twitches and he manages an admirably even, “Thank you, Mr. Drake.”

The smile is impossible to fight, so Tim doesn't even bother. “Ridiculous,” he says again, shaking his head.

Dick sketches a little bow, and holds out his arm for Tim to take. (He does.)


	3. Day 3: Naughty or Nice - Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim knows Dick's there, but if he's going to insist on doing his creature of the night impersonation, he's not going to encourage him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [These Things I've Found](http://archiveofourown.org/series/25372) 'verse.

Tim knows Dick's there, but if he's going to insist on doing his creature of the night impersonation, he's not going to encourage him. It's late enough that Pru should be sleeping, but Tim knows it's more likely she's off patrolling Gotham with Jason or happily taunting the other Bats.

The Christmas lights Tam insisted on putting up in the penthouse are blinking erratically, casting odd shadows that do nothing but help Dick in whatever he's doing at the moment. (Tim should do something about them when he has the time.)

Mr. Whiskers' ears go back, annoyed because Dick's done this before. Lurked in the shadows while Tim works on one project or another because he's a Bat, but mostly because he's _Dick_. Tim shares a look with Mr. Whiskers because cat or not, he's one of the brighter beings Tim's surrounded by.

Mr. Whiskers meows, and goes back to ignoring Dick and Tim, two of the lesser beings he tolerates more than most.

Several more minutes pass before there's movement from the shadows and then, “Plotting world domination?”

Tim smiles and brings up another file. “Passé ,” he says. “All the supervillains are doing it.” 

True enough, although one would think they'd get the idea after being thwarted the first few times. (An occupational hazard in their line of work, one that Tim's compatriots court time and again without seeming to learn their lesson.)

“You seem busy,” Dick says, something warm in his voice. 

And that. Tim looks up to see Dick watching him, smile on his lips and. “Work,” Tim says, not bothering to elaborate. Whether it's to do with Drake Industries or Tim's other...pursuits, there's always something to be done.

Dick's close enough to see what Tim's doing, nothing at all to do with intrigue or dastardly plots, at least not the kind Bruce would expect from Tim. No, this has more to do with finding the source of a minor leak in the company, someone who didn't read the fine print on their contract before signing. 

“Lists?” Dick says, taking his gloves off to scratch Mr. Whisker's chin when he presses close for attention. There's a soft puff of laughter close to Tim's cheek when he leans down. “Are you checking them twice?”

Tim only just refrains from rolling his eyes because _Dick_. “Hmm, yes. You've caught me, I'm the Santa Claus and I'm going to find out who's naughty or nice.” 

(Not too far off the mark, and there's absolutely no question which list Dick belongs on.)

Dick laughs again, and then his hands are in Tim's hair, massaging gently. “I knew it,” he says, voice warm and happy. “Tam is totally your helper elf.”

Tim chokes because dear God, if she ever heard him say that? Tim may be the supervillain, but Tam's the one who makes sure things run smoothly for him. That, and both Pru and Jason have enormous soft spots for her.

“Clearly, you like to live dangerously,” Tim says, or tries to, but Dick's fingers stray to the base of his neck and trail towards his shoulders and _there_ , the tension he's been carrying around for days while Dick was off dealing with a crisis with the Teen Titans.

“Occasionally,” Dick says.

Tim does roll his eyes then, because Dick is a ridiculous human being. “Everything's okay?” 

Supervillain or not, he is somewhat fond of the Teen Titans. Partly for Dick's sake, but mostly for the fact that the times their paths have crossed proved to be surprisingly entertaining. (Or perhaps not quite so surprising, considering who was involved.)

“Everything's okay,” Dick confirms, draping himself over Tim like a lazy cat, happy and content. He makes thoughtful noise before adding, “There's going to be considerable reconstruction going on in San Francisco for a while, though.”

There's something in his voice that makes Tim wonder if maybe that isn't due more to the Titans' enthusiasm than whatever crisis they were dealing with. (Past experience has Tim leaning strongly towards that likelihood.)

Tim hides his smile against the arm Dick has wrapped around his chest as he makes a mental note to see if there's some way Drake Industries can help. Bruce undoubtedly has someone, Lucius maybe, working to get things started on his end of things.

“Welcome back,” Tim says, letting go of the fear and worry he feels when Dick's out of Gotham, away from what little protection Tim can offer him.

Dick stretches out a hand to save Tim's work before shutting the laptop down. “Cuddles,” he insists, pulling Tim out of his chair. “I've missed my Tim cuddles.”

Tim rolls his eyes at that because Dick and ridiculous go together like nothing else, but doesn't protest.


	4. Day 4: Candy Cane - The Roost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce likes to call it an incursion when the animals from Selina's pet daycare and grooming salon next door find their way into The Roost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Based on [this ridiculousness](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/tagged/The-Roost)? *hands*

There's no clear explanation as to how Bruce became the proprietor of a little flower shop in an area of Gotham that brings in a fair amount of foot traffic on any given day. (Bruce never says, and Dick gives a different answer when someone asks, his stories becoming more and more unlikely and improbable as time goes on.) 

The shop does more than enough business to keep it in the black and turn a neat little profit that Bruce quietly divides among several charities around the city. It has a name, of course it does. The sign over the front of the shop is all done up in an elegant font with swooping curves and sharp lines in gold on a sleek black background. (Unfortunate, then, that Gotham knows it better as The Roost, a far less impressive name that can be traced back to Dick and his terrible sense of humor.)

The story Gotham knows goes that a very young Dick developing an interest in the birds that had taken to nesting in the trees lining the sidewalk in front of the shop that turned into a class project. A class project that caught the interest of certain parties that resulted in a lovely little human interest piece about Bruce Wayne's young ward. (Tim has a copy tucked away with his early photos of Batman and Robin.)

Years later and the shop is still going strong, Jason and Tim and Damian joining Bruce and Dick in helping it run smoothly. (For the most part.) 

Bruce likes to call it an incursion when the animals from Selina's pet daycare and grooming salon next door find their way into The Roost. (It wouldn't be so bad, if Selina hadn't hired Steph and Cass on, or if she somehow convinced Colin to keep Isis company while she was busy with clients.) 

Dick thinks it's hilarious because Bruce is convinced Selina does it on purpose, poking and prodding at him to get him to break character. Jason thinks Dick's an idiot for finding it hilarious, and then sings the K-I-S-S-I-N-G song under his breath. (But never so quietly that Bruce fails to hear him.)

Tim tries to go about his business as usual when it happens, but that's getting harder and harder to do as the frequency of the “incursions” have been increasing the closer they get to Christmas. Damian grumps and growls, but on the occasion kittens are involved can be found with at least one tucked away in a pocket of his work apron, glaring at anyone who dares look at him funny.

Tim knows Selina's definitely doing this on purpose, but for far less nefarious reasons than Bruce would expect. She just loves pushing his buttons, and to be fair, Bruce has a lot of buttons to be pushed. (It wouldn't be so bad, if Selina hadn't hired Steph and Cass on, and if Selina somehow hadn't gotten Colin to stop by to keep Isis company while she's with clients.) 

This time it's Isis leading a small team made up of herself, a sweet-faced tortoiseshell who'd taken a liking to the wire ribbons they used for arrangements and a sulky looking Himalayan. 

The moment they spotted the cats, Jason grabbed Damian for afternoon deliveries leaving Dick and Tim to tell Bruce about this latest invasion and handle the aftermath.

Fortunately, this time that seems to mean filling the day's orders and keeping the cats entertained while Bruce and Selina negotiate ceasefire terms in the back office. (The last Tim had seen of them, Bruce was grimly holding onto his public persona while Selina does what she does in these situations, pushing his buttons and looking smug about it.)

“Aren't you just the sweetest,” Dick coos, teasing the tortoiseshell with a bit of leftover ribbon. 

The Himalayan looks utterly bored, disdain clear on his face. Isis is curled up on Tim's hoodie on the workbench, purring quietly with a self-satisfied air, mission accomplished.

“Dick - “

“Look at what she can do!” Dick says, raising the ribbon higher.

Tim sighs and watches the tortoiseshell eye the ribbon for a moment, undecided – and then Dick dangles it right in front of her before pulling it out of reach - and she springs upward with a trilling war cry. Dick laughs, surrendering the ribbon to her as she grabs it and scampers off towards the Himalayan, tail held high in victory.

“That's kind of the opposite of what Bruce wants,” Tim says, except really not, because Bruce could have put a stop to things like this a long time ago if he really wanted to. ( _Everyone_ knows that, even Bruce, though he'd never admit it.)

Dick shoots him a grin and hops up on the counter next to the arrangement Tim's working on. It's one of their [Christmas-themed arrangements using Dizzy Oriental hybrid lilies and cedar and Douglas-fir stems](http://products.proflowers.com/lilies/Deluxe-Candy-Cane-Lilies-30034260?ref=organicgglgeneric_&prid=pfseogg&viewpos=1&trackingpgroup=mdt). 

“That's what he thinks,” Dick says, grabbing one of the candy canes the use for other arrangements popular during the  
season out of its box. “You know how they are.”

Tim gives Dick a look because really, who doesn't? 

“Want some?” Dick he asks, waving his candy cane at Tim in a manner not unlike the way he'd been playing with the tortoiseshell.

“Wow, thanks,” Tim says, underwhelmed. “I'll pass.”

Dick shrugs, settling back to watch Tim work. After a few moments, he stretches out a foot to nudge Tim. “Movies at my place tonight?”

And.

“Dick,” Tim says, with extreme patience, setting the clippers down carefully. 

They're only a few weeks out from Christmas, which means frantic customers and last minute orders. Longer days to the heavier workload, and Dick is just sitting there watching him when he could be helping. (Being part of the superhero community wouldn't mean anything to a desperate customer.) 

Dick just looks at him, all innocent eyes and confused eyebrows, candy cane tucked in the corner of his mouth. 

“Dick,” Tim says again. Fond, exasperated.

“Yes?” 

Tim shakes his head, leans in to snag the collar of Dick's shirt. Dick's mouth turns up into a smile, letting Tim reel him in, looking amused and more than a little smug.

“Dick.”

“Tim?”

“We live together, Dick,” Tim says, like Dick doesn't know. 

Dick's eyebrows frown at him. “Is that a no?”

Tim rolls his eyes, placing his hand on Dick's chest. The beat of his heart strong and steady under Tim's palm. “No it's not a no,” Tim says, hooking the end of the candy cane with his pinky. “It's a you're completely ridiculous,” he says, and gently pushes Dick away. 

Tim ignores Dick's stupidly pleased smile as he sticks the candy cane in his mouth and focuses on the arrangement, seeing to the last little bit before moving on to the next one. (The sooner they finish up, the sooner they can go home.)

Dick joins him after a moment or two, working in companionable silence next to him, hands brushing one another from time to time.


	5. Day 5 - Sweaters and Scarves - Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham's blustery fall days have given way to her colder, less hospitable winter days.

Gotham's blustery fall days have given way to her colder, less hospitable winter days. The sky overhead is darker, heavier, and the air is cold, sharp. There's a bite to it now that has people hurrying down sidewalks, heads down, tucked into the warmth of their scarves, eager to be inside.

Tim's no different, exhausted from a long day of dealing with Wayne Enterprises business and stubborn people and _Brucie_. 

Dick's home when he gets in, baggy sweater and worn sweatpants and an amused smile which means he must have been talking to Bruce – or maybe Tam called ahead to let him know. The heat's up in the apartment, cozy, warm, _home_ , and Tim's shoulders come down a little, tension bleeding out of him.

“Hey,” Dick says, careful hands unwinding Tim's scarf. “Long day?”

Tim _looks_ at him.

Tim goes with it as Dick helps him out of his coat, setting it on the hook by the door with Tim's scarf. He goes with it when Dick's fingers wrap around his wrist and he tugs gently, getting Tim moving. Out of the entryway and down the hallway. Through the living room and into the bedroom.He goes with it when Dick helps him out of his suit and into more comfortable clothes, an old sweater, soft and comforting and jeans that have seen better days. He bats Dick's hands away when they wander with an exasperated “ _Dick_ ” and soft laughter - and leans into his touch when they linger.

“Dinner's in the oven,” Dick says – holding a hand out before Tim can say anything - “Alfred brought it by. He said something about Bruce and terrible human beings?”

Tim laughs at that, because so, so true, and goes with it when Dick leans down for a kiss, wordless _welcome home_.


	6. Day 6: Ice Skating - Centered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick squawks, arms windmilling before he goes down in an ungainly sprawl of limbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in a variation of the [olympic pairs ice skating hopeful Tim](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/27278013167/so-thoughts-im-totally-okay-with-tim-being-an) 'verse. Also, references [_The Cutting Edge_](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0104040/) because I love that movie far too much.

Tim just doesn't understand how someone usually so graceful can be so - 

Dick squawks, arms windmilling before he goes down in an ungainly sprawl of limbs.

\- so terrible at this. 

“Toe pick?” Dick asks, looking up at Tim with a sheepish grin.

Letting Steph pick the movie earlier was obviously a mistake. Letting her talk Dick into trying on some skates was an even worse one, even if there had been several opportunities for Tim to show Dick proper form, hands lingering a little too long at times. (She will always be a terrible human being in the best possible way, and he loves her for that.)

Biting his lip, Tim helps him to his feet. “Something like that, yeah,” he says, letting Dick cling to him as they slowly make their way to the edge of the rink. 

“I think you might want to find a new skating partner,” Dick says with a laugh. “I'm not exactly gold medal material.”

Tim's had his chance at a medal, back before Steph met Cass. Back when he'd thought that's what he wanted. 

Now, though. 

“I think I'm good,” he says. 

Dick's no Doug Dorsey and Tim's certainly not Kate Moseley, but they do alright.


	7. Day 7: Shiver - Groundwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim doesn't know why he's surprised that Grayson just can't _sit still_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back I had an idea for a [_Castle_ fusion AU-thing](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/32379728933/ahaha-i-know-i-said-i-was-going-to-sleep-but-i). :D?

Tim doesn't know why he's surprised that Grayson just can't _sit still_. Everyone knows his story. Circus kid until the tragedy that claimed his parents happened and then Bruce Wayne – _Bruce Wayne_ \- stepped in, and now he's Tim's own personal nightmare. Son of one of Gotham's most powerful and influential people tagging along on cases and doing his best to get himself hurt or killed in pursuit of a good story for his next novel.

Steph thinks it's hilarious because she's a terrible human being. Jason thinks it's hilarious because he has some kind of history with Grayson and his family, and is likewise a terrible human being. Gordon thinks it's hilarious and long-awaited payback for all the gray hairs Tim supposedly gave him. Tim thinks he should have listened to his high school guidance counselor and gone into business instead.

“Grayson, this is a stakeout,” Tim says. Slowly, patiently. “You do know what that means, right?”

Grayson fidgets again, hands restless over the dash of the car, fiddling with buttons and dials. “This is less interesting than I was led to believe,” he says, giving Tim the puppy dog eyes. “I thought there would be - “

“More action?” Tim finishes dryly. It's been a common complaint since Grayson latched onto Tim like the last life preserver on a sinking ship. (Or maybe a leech, Tim's undecided on that one.) 

At least Grayson has the decency to look like he knows how ridiculous that sounds, scratching his cheek and looking away. 

Real life police work is nowhere as glamorous or exciting as television or the movies make it seem. It's thankless work, getting recognition when something goes horribly wrong or amazingly right. 

No one cares about the tedium of stakeouts unless it ends in guns and bullets and witty one liners being exchanged while under fire. No one cares about the endless hours of sifting through files and databases looking for the one thing out of place that might be a clue or simple clerical error. No one cares about that, but it's that exact kind of thing that leads to cases being solved, to the kinds of things Grayson and his kind use to make a living.

“Yes!” Grayson says, and makes a face when he sees the look on Tim's face. “I mean, no!” There's a pause, Grayson tapping his fingers on his leg. “There's no right answer here, is there?”

Tim rolls his eyes and looks back at the apartment building they're watching. “Is there ever one with you?” he asks, but it's faintly amused. Grayson's not all bad, and there have been hints of intelligence and character under everything.

There must be something to him other than what he shows the world. Grayson's adopted brother doesn't seem the kind to suffer fools gladly, and the butler certainly wouldn't be so fond of the entire family if there wasn't. ( _Jason_ wouldn't be so fond of him if there wasn't something more to him, even with whatever happened between them.)

“Hey,” Grayson protests, smile in his voice. “Unfair.”

Tim shrugs, wondering how much more of this Grayson can stand. The night's a bust, Tim knew that three hours in when Steph sent him a text, Grayson snoring away beside him. Their guy's in lockup for a drunken and disorderly and this is. 

This is Tim getting a little of his own back for all the times Grayson's scared the hell out of him while on a case. 

Grayson's not a cop, but he thinks he is one sometimes, like getting Gordon's okay to shadow Tim means he's an honorary police officer. He'll go charging after a suspect without thinking about the risks, the dangers. He's not a cop, but he was raised in a circus, was part of a acrobatic act, and to someone like him Gotham's a playground. (Tim is going to kill him if he keeps chasing after suspects using using fire escapes and rooftops as alternative travel routes.)

It's a little of that, but mostly it's getting Grayson to see the side of police work that the novels and television shows and movies gloss over. A brief montage of the protagonist rolling up their sleeves with a mug of coffee close to hand and a stack of files with a clock on the wall to show the passage of time. Partners sitting in an unmarked car with a box of donuts and thermoses full of coffee sharing their life stories and long-held secrets before the suspect spots them and runs and they have to give chase that usually ends in a shootout.

Tim's pulled out if his thoughts by Grayson sneezing, and when Tim looks over he's got an apologetic look on his face. 

“Sorry,” he says, rubbing his arms. “I don't suppose you could put the heat on?”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “This is why I told you to dress warmly,” he says. 

It's early fall, and while the temperatures haven't quite reached freezing, it is cold enough to see their breath outside. (Cold enough that someone would wonder at why people were sitting in a parked car all night with the engine running.)

Grayson makes puppy dog eyes at Tim again, a little more effective this time with an exaggerated shiver thrown in. 

Tim sighs, because this. Grayson, is impossible. He's handsome and charming and just so _friendly_. People like him on sight, and it's exasperating. (Tim's worried at just how much he actually likes Grayson, the more he gets to know him.)

“He’s not here anyway,” Tim says, pulling out his keys. He takes a moment to enjoy the look on Grayson's face – surprise, confusion – and starts the car.

“You!” Grayson gets out, hands darting towards the heating controls. “But!”

Tim smiles, pulling the car out into traffic. “You wanted to get a taste of real police work, right Grayson? This was just part of that.”

Tim can feel Grayson looking at him as they head towards a little all-night diner Tim knows. It's late and he's hungry and there's a little bit of guilt in there towards Grayson, who's a pretty good sport about things when all is said and done. (He certainly handles the terrible trio of Steph and Cass and Jason together with more grace than anyone aside from Gordon Tim's ever seen.)

“Jason warned me about you,” Grayson says, amused, as he leans back in his seat. 

One of the good things to come out of the situation with Grayson is that he's tying to fix whatever went happened with Jason. He's making an effort with Jason, and that means more than Grayson probably knows. It means Tim's willing to give him more leeway than anyone else would get in his position because Jason is definitely worth it.

“You probably should have listened to him, then,” Tim says. “Jason's usually right about things like that.”

There's a beat or two of silence and then, “Yeah, he is,” Grayson says warmly.

Tim glances at him to see Grayson smiling at him, and tries to ignore the little flutter in his chest because no, _no_. That's just a really, really terrible idea. An incredibly, horrifically bad idea. 

“So,” Grayson says, “About the character I'm basing on you.” A pause, the kind that usually comes right before Grayson says something that makes Tim bitterly regret going along with this farce. “What are your feelings him being a male stripper?”


	8. Day 8: Snowball Fight - Maneuvers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing of it is, it would be easy to assume that the field operatives would be the ones winning this battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there was that time I came up with a plot bunny where [the Batfam are mercenaries](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/33720268871/so-i-like-to-think-this-is-from-that-au-where-the) because I watched too much 80s and 90s television. *hands*

The thing of it is, it would be easy to assume that the field operatives would be the ones winning this battle.

“I don't understand,” Roy says, shaking snow out of his hair. “They're techies.”

Tim steps around the pile of snow and Jason to help Lian down from her tree. “I used to be a techie,” he points out, high fiving Lian for the excellent cover fire she'd provided. (Not enough to save Roy and Jason the indignity of snowballs hitting delicate areas from a surprise attack, but enough for Tim to reach sufficient cover and drive their attackers away.)

Roy makes a face at that and waves his hands in the air. “Yeah, but. You're _you_ ,” he says, like that's supposed to mean anything. “Cullen - “

“- grew up with Harper,” Dick says, dropping down next to Tim from out of nowhere. “That pretty much says it all.”

Having worked with both of them extensively, Tim has to agree. Harper's the obvious threat, but Cullen. He sneaks up on you, gets past your defenses. Far more dangerous of the two. Not to mention Steph and Cass are out there somewhere, itching to get back at Jason and Roy because they're Jason and Roy.

“You got a plan, Goldie?” Jason asks, letting Lian sweep snow off his shoulders. 

Roy sidles up to them, tugging the hood of Lian's jacket back in place.“They got to Kory, Dick. _Kory_.”

Tim has it on good authority there were bribes of Alfred's hot chocolate and the finest cookies to be had this side of Smallville. (He may have been offered a similar deal earlier, Steph sneaking into their camp while Jason and Roy were arguing tactics.)

Dick glances at Tim, eyebrow raised. “Do we?” he asks, like he knows Tim knows something he's not saying. (To be fair, that's usually true.)

Tim shrugs, flexing his fingers, stiff from the cold. They've been at this for most of the day now, one of Bruce's training exercises that somehow (Dick, Jason, and Roy) turned into a battle of wills between the field operatives and Barbara's operations staff while Bruce and Alfred watch it all from the comfort of the manor.

Damian's gone rogue, sniping at any and all targets of opportunity with Titus at his side, loyal as always. (Lian's the sole exception, Damian wrongfully thinking he could ever get her to side against Roy.)

Barbara and the rest of her people are holed up near the manor while the rest of them hide in the trees at the edge of the property. They've had Lian up in the trees to provide cover fire while Dick uses them for reconnaissance.

“This is starting to look a lot like Antarctica,” Tim says. It's not so much the cold and snow as it is the makeshift camp and odds stacked against them. 

There's even a hidden laboratory, but that's less for creating mutant mole people and more for analysis and formulating vaccines and antidotes and other things along those lines they encounter on missions.

Dick blinks. “You think so?” he asks.

“It'll work,” Tim says. (He's mostly sure, mainly due to the fact that Barbara and the others aren't mutant mole people, but. They'll improvise.)

“Why do I have a terrible feeling about this?” Roy asks.

Jason sighs, long-suffering. “Because it's one of Dick's plans, Harper. Don't even _try_ to tell me you've never been on the wrong end of one of those.”

Jason and Roy start bickering between themselves, Lian piping up with something to say every so often. Tim turns to head back to camp to start preparing, but Dick's _right there_.

Tim raises an eyebrow, because along with being well withing Tim's personal space bubble, there's a smile on Dick's face Tim's learned not to trust. “Dick?”

“I seem to remember something else about Antarctica,” Dick says, moving closer.

Tim sighs, but it's hard to resist the smile. (Hard to resist Dick, even if he's nothing but bad pick-up lines and terrible jokes at times like this.)

“Really?” he asks, but it's a token protest and Dick knows it.

“Really,” he says, and kisses Tim. ( _For good luck, this is a horrible plan and the mutant mole people might eat us anyway._ )

“Oh, man, really?” Roy asks. “My kid's right here, Dick. Right here!”

Tim breaks away first, turning his face into Dick's shoulder as Dick yells back, laughter in his voice and Lian backing him up. 

This? Right here, right now? So much better than Antarctica for so many reasons.


	9. Day 9: Mistletoe - Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The natural suspect is Dick himself, but he seems genuinely surprised – if not exactly unhappy about it – when sprigs of mistletoe start appearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this one a little late due to real life being hectic. :D?

The natural suspect is Dick himself, but he seems genuinely surprised – if not exactly unhappy about it – when sprigs of mistletoe start appearing. 

He finds the first one in his apartment in the doorway leading to the kitchen, half-asleep and following the smell of coffee.

“Hey,” Dick says, snagging a handful of his shirt. “Tradition.”

Tim blinks at him, uncomprehending, and Dick places careful fingers under his chin and tips his head up. “Did you put that there?” Tim asks.

Dick tugs him closer. “Do you really want to go into that right now?”

Well, no.

********

Tim's list of suspects narrows when he finds mistletoe along his patrol route where Dick sometimes joins him. 

“Really?” 

Dick lands lightly next to him. “Huh,” he says when he sees what Tim's looking at. “Did you put it there?”

Tim looks at him. 

“...So no, then?” Dick asks.

Tim keeps an eye on the mistletoe when he kisses Dick. (Ivy's been quite for some time now, but there's no knowing with Gotham.)

********

Tim does some investigating over the next few days that's hardly enlightening, but highly entertaining nonetheless.

He goes to Bruce first, deciding to work through the possible suspects one by one. 

Bruce gives him a flat look.

“So that's a no, then?” Tim asks, because why not.

Bruce sighs, probably wondering what he ever did to deserve things like this. “No, Tim.”

********

Dick catches him on his way out of the bathroom after his shower where a new sprig of mistletoe appeared without his noticing.

********

Steph has a wistful look on her face when he tells her what's been happening. “Oh man,” she says, when Tim asks her about it. “I wish I'd thought of that.”

“What? Why?”

Steph pats Tim's shoulder. “It's a good thing you're pretty, Tim.”

********

Tim sneaks up behind Dick on patrol that night, feeling lighthearted and playful. He tucks the berry in one of his belt pouches before they swing out over the city to finish patrol.

********

Jason covers his face with his hands, probably bemoaning his life. “Jesus Christ, baby bird, what the hell makes you think I want to hear about that?” 

********

Dick again, grinning as he reaches up to pluck a berry from the mistletoe sprig in the kitchen.

********

Alfred raises an eyebrow at Tim and sets a cup of tea in front of Tim.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim says.

********

This one's a tie, in a shadowed nook on one of Gotham's roofs.

********

Damian looks _shifty_.

“Fitting,” Damian sneers, halfhearted at best. “It's a parasite, not unlike like you.”

Behind him, Jason chokes on his own laughter and Steph's trying valiantly not to smile as she gives Damian a disapproving look. Alfred coughs discreetly. 

Damian's not meeting his eyes, is, in fact, doing everything short of leaving the room to avoid doing so.

“You always say the nicest things,” Tim says, wondering if it was Dick who put him up to it, or someone else. If it's worth it to look deeper. 

********

There's a new sprig of mistletoe above the entryway into Tim's living room, Dick moving in the moment Tim steps under it.

“Still trying to solve the mystery?” Dick asks, looking far too smug and pleased with himself.

Tim smiles, wrapping his arms around Dick as he leans up for a kiss, “I think I can live without knowing.”


	10. Day 10: Snow Day - Hooky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Crime never rests,” Tim says. There's a light dusting of snow on the balcony, more falling from the sky. “And it doesn't take snow days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, so I'm a little behind on these, sorry. :D? Takes place in the [These Things I've Found](http://archiveofourown.org/series/25372) 'verse.

Winter in Gotham means snow, and snow. Snow complicates things. Throws a cold and uncaring wrench into the works. 

“Crime never rests,” Tim says. There's a light dusting of snow on the balcony, more falling from the sky. “And it doesn't take snow days.”

Serena and Venus are snapping playfully at the falling snowflakes. They're made to survive harsher climates than Gotham is likely to see, bar supervillain intervention.

“You've been hanging around Bruce too much,” Dick says, smile in his voice.

Tim looks back at Dick, eyebrow raised.

Gotham's criminal element has been quiet lately, whether due to the weather or some other factor. Dick's been out of the city, and Tim's been busy with Drake Industries business. 

“He missed you,” Tim says. 

No one in their right mind would ever say Batman was lonely, but Bruce. Bruce is another matter entirely. Visiting the penthouse to growl warnings and remind Tim that Bruce is keeping an eye on him? All signs pointing to the fact that Bruce was slowly going out of his mind without anything bigger than petty crimes to turn his attention to.

Dick smiles, moving closer to wrap himself around Tim from behind, content to watch the snow.

After several moments, Tim sighs. “Terrible weather conditions?” Tim asks, knowing Tam will roll her eyes at his excuse. (His office is several stories below, after all.)

“Horrible,” Dick agrees. “We might have to dig our way out.”

“You're really committed to this, aren't you?”

“I think we both deserve a day off once in a while, don't you?”

Well, when he puts it like _that_.

“You get to be the one to explain it to Tam,” Tim says, leaning back against Dick. Supervillain or not, an angry Tam is not someone to be trifled with.

“Deal,” Dick says, laughing quietly.

Tim shakes his head because Dick still doesn't know how formidable Tam really is. 

He'll learn.


	11. Day 11: Secret Santa - Momentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Secret Santa,” Grayson says. The serious tone of his voice belies the gleam in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the same AU as [Groundwork](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1052640).

“What did you do now?” Tim asks, the moment he spots Grayson sitting in the chair by Tim's desk. He looks entirely too pleased with himself, and Tim has learned that that's never a good thing.

Grayson looks around furtively before crooking a beckoning finger at Tim, sitting forward in his chair and speaking quietly enough Tim has to lean in to hear him.

“Secret Santa,” Grayson says. The serious tone of his voice belies the gleam in his eyes.

Tim just looks at him. He can _feel_ Steph and Jason watching, two very annoying pains his ass who delight in watching Grayson slowly drive Tim insane. Marking down dates and taking bets as to when he'll finally snap, laughing to themselves about it because they're horrible human beings.

He could be mean, cold, and point out that Grayson isn't actually one of them, isn't a police officer or detective. That he shouldn't be included in the annual holiday madness that descends upon them this time of year. He could, but they've long moved past that point in this odd little partnership. (If he's honest with himself, Tim can admit they were never there to begin with, that Grayson hay never felt like a stranger, that he'd fit with them like he belonged there, filling up empty spaces.)

“Dumpster diving duty,” he calls out, instead, watching the faint uncertainty in his eyes be replaced with open amusement. “ _Forever_.”

Steph snorts, and Tim dodges the Nerf football aimed at the back of his head without looking. (He knows them too well not to expect it.)

********

The point of Secret Santa is that the recipient isn't supposed to know who their gift is from. (Someone probably should have told Grayson that.)

“Grayson,” Tim says, after the latest round of questions. (Tim's favorite color, his favorite animal, and of course, favorite author.)

“Hmm?”

Tim sighs, something he does far too often whenever Grayson is involved. “You do know how Secret Santa works, don't you?”

Grayson looks at him, eyebrow quirked. “I have an idea, yes,” he says. 

Tim looks at him.

“...I'm working on fleshing out the character I'm basing on you?” he tries with an awkward smile.

Another sigh, and Tim goes back to his report, wondering how, exactly this is his life now.

********

Tim knows that he's not the first police officer Grayson shadowed, that there is a police captain in Bludhaven to claim that dubious honor.

“I based the character of my first series on her,” Grayson says. “You'd like her.”

They were on another stakeout, one that bears more of a resemblance to the ones Grayson tends to write about, because of course it would. Tim doesn't even know why he's surprised by things like this anymore.

“I might,” Tim says.

He's actually met Captain Rohrbach before, working on a case that crossed over into Bludhaven. Long before Grayson decided Tim was his new muse, long before things like getting caught by the people they were supposed to be watching happened more frequently than Tim would like. 

Tim turns his head to look at Grayson, handcuffed at his back. “Think you can reach my pocket?”

There's a moment of silence, and then Grayson's _laughing_. 

“Grayson?”

“And you said this never happens in real life,” Grayson says. 

“I said it's highly unlikely,” Tim corrects. For the most part it's true, but then there's Tim's luck to factor in. (All the more reason for Tim to carry spare handcuff keys and be thankful for incompetent criminals who don't do thorough patdowns.)

Grayson laughs again, shoulders shifting against Tim's as he reaches for his pocket. “This is _so_ going in the book.”

********

Tim isn't surprised when he comes in to find a box with a set of fuzzy handcuffs on his desk a few days later. He turns in his chair to see Steph watching him. Jason's off trying to sweet-talk the station's coffee maker into making something vaguely resembling coffee.

“Safety first,” she says, smiling sweetly.

Tim's known Steph for a long time. Since the academy and the on-again, off-again relationship that followed, morphing into what they have now. He's known her for a long time, and as a result she gets away with things no one else in the world could.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Tim says, shoving the box in the bottom drawer of his desk. 

“Keep what in mind?” Grayson asks.

Tim shoots Steph a _look_ , but because it's Steph it has no effect on her as she bursts into laughter, Grayson looking between them with a bemused smile.

********

The point of Secret Santa is that it's meant to be random, a name drawn out of a hat or other receptacle. And maybe it is, in other workplaces. 

“Bribery's illegal,” Tim points out. He can see the edge of the monstrosity of a coffee and espresso maker Grayson had oh so graciously given them in the break room.

Jason takes a drink of his coffee, a content expression spreading across his face. “I'd throw you under the bus for good coffee any day,” he says, which is more or less the truth.

Steph hands Tim an espresso. “Sometimes you have to take one for the team, Drake.”

“I'll keep that in mind as well, Brown,” Tim says, resigned. 

********

The days that follow are. Interesting, is a good way to put it. Files and names and numbers and amazingly good coffee. 

The criminals they'd been watching on stakeout were a dead-end, a distraction, that lead into sleep deprivation and Tim staring at the murder board trying to find that one clue that will unravel the mystery. That last little piece of the puzzle being found, all the pieces clicking into place.

Grayson's there with them, going over files and evidence. Tagging along when they interview the victim's family and acquaintances. He's working with them to find the killers and maybe that's part of the reason Tim never really though of him an outsider. He's not just there for inspiration, a good story to sell to his readers. He's there because he _cares_.

“Hey,” Grayson says.

Tim sent Steph and Jason home hours ago, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts and the soft blinking light from the small Christmas tree on Steph's desk. They missed the party, too busy making arrests and tying up loose ends. The detritus from the annual party has been cleaned up, although bits of tinsel still linger in odd corners. 

“Grayson,” Tim says, curious. Grayson's dressed up, sharp tux, polished shoes. His younger brother is skulking just outside the bullpen, a grumpy little well-dressed storm cloud.

“Sorry I missed the party,” Grayson says. “Bruce wanted us to put in an appearance at a Wayne Enterprises function.”

Annual fundraiser, Tim knows. He's worked crowd control at a few when he was still a uniformed police officer. (He's been to some as a guest when he was younger and his mother was still alive.)

“Grayson,” Tim says again. Faintly amused. Possibly fond, although Grayson doesn't seem to notice.

“Right, right,” he says, setting a small box on Tim's desk and backing away. “I wasn't sure what to get you, so.” He shrugs. “Merry Christmas, Detective Drake.”

He flashes Tim a smile, bright in the dim light as he leaves with his brother in tow, and Tim.

Tim shakes his head and reaches for the box, a small quiet smile forming on his lips as he opens it. An autographed advanced copy of Grayson's newest book. (Tim's favorite author although he'd given Grayson a different answer when he asked.)

Tim runs his fingers over the cover with its cliché title and dramatic artwork. Opens the book and turns a few pages, and goes still at the dedication page and the heartfelt thanks and gratitude to the people who made it possible. The ones who protect the people of Gotham and bring their criminals to justice, no matter the personal cost.

“Merry Christmas, Grayson,” Tim murmurs, gathering his things. 

There will be another case in the morning, and another after that, but for now? For now there's the gratification of solving this one, giving the victim's family and friends peace of mind, and that's what makes everything worth it.


	12. Day 12: Angel - Adornment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim usually doesn't bother with the hassle of a tree when it's just him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [Patchwork](http://archiveofourown.org/series/25922) 'verse.

Tim usually doesn't bother with the hassle of a tree when it's just him. This year, however. This year the apartment is filled with knit crafts of all kinds, and there's a decorated tree nestled in a pot to be replanted once the holidays are over. 

“I don't know what to say,” Dick says, staring at the tree. 

Tim smiles. “Jason helped with the pattern,” he says. It was a little tricky, and when Jason realized what Tim was doing, he was completely on board. 

Dick gives Tim a look. “I'm never going to live that down, am I?”

The lights on the tree blink cheerfully, reflected light catching on the tinsel and ornaments. Perched on the top of the tree is a knit amigurumi angel with a smiling face clad in blue and gold and black – the infamous Discowing suit.

“No,” Tim says, because _no_. “I don't think you will.”


	13. Day 13: Silver and Gold - Glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's like you _want_ to get caught,” Cullen mutters, sticking close to Tim. “The two of you are certifiable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, I am incredibly terrible at keeping up with these prompts, sorry everyone!
> 
> Also, new Catlad!Tim AU! with a teensy crossover with _[Magic Kaito.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_Kaito)_

Everything's done up in silver and gold - _ostentatious_ , _extravagant_ \- Tim hears, walking through the crowd) but it's a Wayne gala, and that's. Not typical, really, except for the times when it is.

“Cullen?”

There's an annoyed sigh and then Cullen pops up from behind a pillar, running fingers through his hair self-consciously. “This is a terrible idea,” he says, shooting furtive looks at the crowd. “I can't even begin to explain to you how terrible.”

For obvious reasons this is an incredibly horrible idea, but there's Selina over in a corner, making nice with Bruce. Jason and Damian are skulking in a corner and Steph and Cass are dancing to the music while Barbara and Dick look on, clearly amused.

“It's like you _want_ to get caught,” Cullen mutters, sticking close to Tim. “The two of you are certifiable.”

Tim slides a look at him, mouth curving when Dick spots them. “Oh, Cullen,” Tim says. “You don't even know the half of it.”

********

Tim thought about retiring once.

He offered the suit to Cullen, who'd refused, point blank claiming he'd never be able to carry it off nearly as well as Tim does.

“Besides, how else would you flirt with Nightwing?”

********

Dick clearly isn't over their last meeting, eyes hard as he stalks toward them.

“Oh my God,” Cullen says, edging back. “We're going to die.”

Tim reaches out without looking, fingers going around Cullen's wrist. “Bats don't kill, remember?” he says, voice pitched low as he watches Dick approach.

“Maybe not,” Cullen hisses. “But you've seen what they can do!” He pulls himself together, possibly realizing retreat is futile while surrounded by Bats. 

Tim hides a wince because _yes_ , he has. To be fair, though, that had been an extreme situation. 

“Tim,” Dick says, when he reaches them. “So nice to see you.” He glances at Cullen, eyebrows looking confused. “Your date?”

Behind Tim, Cullen makes a choking noise that could either be laughter or horror. His feelings for Tim had died a quick and merciful death when he realized just how much Tim didn't think like normal people. 

“Just a friend,” Tim says with a bright smile. And because he can't seem to help himself, “A _very_ good friend.” It's not his fault if Dick reads something into that, is it?

The choking noise intensifies to the point that Dick starts to look alarmed instead of murderous.

?

“Is he going to be okay?”

Tim looks at Cullen, who waves him off, and makes his way to the refreshment table, still wheezing slightly.

“He's...” Dick trails off, obviously at a loss for words.

“Cullen,” Tim finishes, giving Dick a look. Cullen is one of those people who just _is_. Tim seems to surround himself with those kind of people without realizing it.

Dick makes a noncommittal noise, reserving judgment. “I see.”

Tim shrugs, a little roll of his shoulders. “I doubt it,” he says. People have a habit of overlooking Cullen in favor of the people he surrounds himself with. (Harper, Selina, Tim.)

********

It isn't so much that Tim flirts with Nightwing as it is Nightwing flirts with _him_.

Selina tells Tim there's just something about Gotham and her Bats and Cats.

“...Right, Tim. And that's why you go out of your way to get his attention.”

********

Dick's watching him, clearly waiting for Tim to spring some kind of trap on him, which, tempting as it is, no. They had enough of that not too long ago, Tim running interference for an overseas friend.

“A present for you,” he says, holding out a small box. Inside is the gemstone that was stolen from a museum exhibit a few days ago. 

He smiles at the look he gets for that, suspicious, cautious, as Dick accepts it. “Don't worry, it's not booby trapped.”

Dick raises an eyebrow as he opens the box and then, “Why are you giving me this?”

Dick Grayson has no business handling a stolen gemstone anymore than Tim Drake does, and yet.

“A friend of mine thought you might appreciate it.” 

Thin, flimsy, but for this they don’t really need more, do they? Dick doesn't need to know the particulars, and Kaito's flight left for Japan hours ago. Besides, Tim has enough of his own that he can afford to let this one go.

“A friend,” Dick repeats, eyes flicking to Cullen, who is trying to escape Steph's clutches as she tries to get him onto the dance floor.

Tim smiles. “I do have more than one, you know.”

Dick looks down at the box and the gemstone in it. Looks at Tim. The box again.

“I don't suppose you're ever going to tell me what that was all about?” he asks, tucking the box away.

Tim shakes his head, “Tell you what what was about?”

And now Dick smiles, rueful. “One of these nights, Tim, one of these nights.”

Maybe, yes.


	14. Day 14: Gift Wrapping - Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You didn't have to, you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [These Things I've Found](http://archiveofourown.org/series/25372) 'verse.

“You didn't have to, you know.”

Tim looks up from the book he's reading to give Dick an inquisitive look. “Sorry?”

Dick raises an eyebrow right back at Tim. “Seriously?” There's a thread of amusement in there, along with exhaustion and something that's trying – albeit not very hard - to be serious.

It's been a long few weeks for both of them. Running Drake Industries and making sure his other...interests don't become more complicated than they already are. (They always do, though, sooner or later.)

Dick helping Bruce with yet another breakout at Arkham, a case of his own and other matters he didn't think Tim knew about. (Tim makes it his business to know.)

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Tim says, saving his page and setting the book down. “I was in the office all day, just got home a few hours ago.”

That nets him another look, this one deeply skeptical. (It's like a game between them, this.)

“Minions, Tim,” Dick says, as if Tim isn't aware that he does in fact have minions. All of them guaranteed to be the cause of a major headache for Tim at any given moment.

“I thought you didn't like me calling them that,” Tim says, watching Dick cross the room, shedding clothes as he goes. “Something about morale?”

Dick pauses with his fingers unbuttoning his shirt. “Well, it would just be embarrassing for someone of your level to be overthrown by disgruntled employees, wouldn't it?”

It's cute that Dick doesn't think that won't happen anyway with the way Tam looks at Tim sometimes, like she can't believe he's managed to stay alive this long. When he comes up with unspeakably stupid plans and schemes (Tam's words) and she'd do better. (She could, is the thing.)

“That's what the shark tank is for,” Tim says, even though the sharks in question are Whitespotted Bamboo Sharks and don't tend to inspire fear in others.

“Right,” Dick says, sliding int the bed with a sigh, arms going around Tim's waist. 

Tim smiles, crooked, and threads his fingers into Dick's hair, massaging gently. Dick slowly relaxes against him, fingers toying with the hem of Tim's shirt. “The bows were a nice touch,” he says, smile in his voice. “Very festive.”

Dick's right, though. Tim has minions for a reason. What better one than to have them round up the last few Arkham stragglers and leave them nicely gift wrapped for Dick to find, incidentally giving him reason to call it an early night? 

Tim smiles, reaching over to flick the lamp on his nightstand off, “I still don't know what you're talking about,” he says, letting Dick pull him down next to him.

Dick hmms, bone-tired and content, curling into Tim's warmth, “Of course you don't.”


	15. Day 15: Fireplace - Cabin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And to think the movies always made this look glamorous,” Tim says, scowling at the fireplace and the sad, pitiful fire within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the same 'verse as [Hold Your Breath](http://archiveofourown.org/works/543280)

“And to think the movies always made this look glamorous,” Tim says, scowling at the fireplace and the sad, pitiful fire within. 

He knows the kind of work Dick and the others – and Tim himself, now – do isn't what Hollywood seems to think it is. (Even though they do get gadgets courtesy of Babs and Harper, but that's not the point.)

Dick puts an arm around Tim and tugs him away from the fireplace, towards the small bed. The cabin is tiny and there's cold air from outside coming in somewhere. The whole thing creaks alarmingly and there's a snow storm raging on outside.

All in all, not a luxurious vacation cabin in the mountains for a young couple hoping for a nice, relaxing weekend away from the city, as their cover would indicate they are.

“Well, look at it this way,” Dick says, maneuvering Tim into the bed. 

“What?” Tim asks, elbowing Dick for more breathing room.

“We might be able to finagle a mission somewhere warm after this.”

Tim thinks about it. About Bruce and his twisted sense of humor. Babs and _her_ twisted sense of humor. 

“God, no, let's not,” he says, elbowing Dick for even thinking about it. “Knowing Bruce, he'd probably send us to some godforsaken jungle or the desert.”

Dick laughs because he knows even better than Tim how true that is. “Probably, yes,” he agrees, “Now get some sleep, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

In the morning they have work to do, people to find, secrets to steal, but for now there's this, and that's not so bad, considering.


	16. Day 16: Winter Wonderland - Songbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's been amazingly good about this all things told, which is deeply suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still playing catch-up. Takes place in the [Drake Investigations](http://archiveofourown.org/series/21207) 'verse.

Dick's been amazingly good about this all things told, which is deeply suspicious. It's rare enough when he tags along on one of Tim's case as himself and not, say, _Nightwing_ , and it seems he's taken a shine to Bruce's public persona enough to want to give it a try himself lately.

“Dick.”

Dick looks at Tim.

Tim looks at Dick.

Around them the snow machine continues to belch out artificial snow out at an impressive rate, flakes catching in their hair and on their clothes. The auditorium is empty, the stage set is a little worse for wear after the beating it took when Dick and Tim subdued the goons he'd been hired to track down.

One of the reindeer is missing its antlers and the sleigh is a complete loss, jingle bells spread over the stage. Fortunately the community college's Christmas pageant is over, otherwise Tim would feel more guilt over this.

One of the goons, and Tim feels justified in calling them that given their lack of intelligence and simple comprehension, lets out a pained groan.

All in all, not one of his better cases, but at least it's over and he can get paid for this farce. (Most likely, if they don't demand damages.)

“Just.” Tim sighs. “Let it out before you hurt yourself.” 

Dick grins, all unholy glee and horrible everything, and starts _singing_ , twirling around with his arms spread like he's the lead in a movie as he warbles about sleigh bells and glistening snow. 

Tim crosses his arms and waits him out, sharing a look with one of the goons when Dick sweeps past in all his terrible glory. “This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't tripped the machine,” he says, because _really_.


	17. Day 17: Ribbons and Bows - Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You'd think this would be easier,” Dick says, struggling with the tape as he wraps presents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the same 'verse as [One Step Closer](http://archiveofourown.org/works/520042/chapters/919089) and [Homecoming](http://archiveofourown.org/works/527552).

“You'd think this would be easier,” Dick says, struggling with the tape as he wraps presents. 

Tim deftly and plucks Donna out of a pile of mangled wrapping paper, sweeping a thumb over the light dusting of glitter on one cheek. She giggles, waving her arm to show off the little bracelet Dick made out of curling ribbons.

“You'd think,” he agrees, setting Donna on her feet.

Dick looks at Tim hopefully.

“No, Dick,” Tim says, in the same tone of voice he uses with Donna. “You'll never learn otherwise.”

That gets a dramatic sigh out of Dick as he falls backward tries in the mess of wrapping paper and ribbon to Donna's utter delight.

“Your dad's a big meanie,” Dick says, serious, when Donna checks to make sure Dick's okay, an expression of worry on her face, little hands patting his face.

Tim rolls his eyes and tries to pretend he's not paying attention because that would only encourage Dick at this point.

Donna makes an inquisitive noise, small hand gripping Dick's sleeve as she looks at Tim uncertainly.

“Meanie,” Dick says, with an exaggerated pout. “He's not going to help me with the presents for your Uncles Jaybird and Roy.”

Donna's eyes go wide at that. “Wally?” she asks, both hands holding onto Dick's shirt.

Donna only saying a few words now, one of which is Wally's name, which doesn't surprise Tim when the two of them are virtually inseparable.

“Cheating,” Tim points out, but Donna's giving him the sad puppy dog eyes, and Tim knows where she gets _that_ from, adopted or not. (It's not like he didn't know this was coming, an unavoidable tradition their mismatched little family seems to have latched onto.)

Dick grins at him, sensing victory. “You're going to need an assistant with all these presents, he says, tapping his chin. “Why don't you help him, sweetie?”

Donna looks at Tim,face brightening when he nods, reluctant smile curving his lips. “You can help me with the bows,” he says.

More than a few will find their way into their hair before they're done wrapping presents, Dick asking Donna if she thinks his are pretty. Donna nodding emphatically, fingers playing surprisingly shyly with the ones in her hair and Tim patiently letting her put shining bows in his hair while Dick tries (and fails) not to laugh.


	18. Day 18: Gingerbread - Perk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim likes the little coffee shop around the corner from the apartment he shares with Kon and Bart because it has great coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Late again. /o\
> 
>  
> 
> No powers coffee shop AU? *hands*

Tim likes the little coffee shop around the corner from the apartment he shares with Kon and Bart because it has great coffee. For the amount of business it gets, is quiet enough that he can do his homework when the apartment is a little too...lively. 

“Hey, Tim!”

There's also the fact that Tim's favorite barista works there.

Tim smiles, shaking snow off his shoulders. “Hey, Dick.” 

A quick look around shows the shop to be down to its usual afternoon crowd, a few college students tucked away on the couch in the corner with their laptops. People on their lunch breaks from work are seated by the windows. 

“I need your opinion on something,” Dick says, beckoning Tim over to a chair at the counter. 

“On what?” Tim asks, settling his hag by his feet. 

Dick doesn't answer, just busies himself making a drink with his usual grace. Tim watches, the corner of his mouth ticking up at the unconscious flourishes Dick throws in, humming a little under his breath as he works.

“Here,” Dick says, setting a drink down in front of Tim. “Try this.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at Dick. He's Tim's favorite barista, sure, but Tim's played guinea pig before and it hasn't always been pleasant. “What is it?” 

Dick looks at him, thoughtful. Looks around at the other customers before leaning in to whisper, “It's a secret,” and straightening up with a wide grin.

Tim sighs, looking down at the drink in his hands. Dick has themes when it comes to his latte art, and will gladly take requests. He favors birds, wings outstretched in flight, the illusion of movement.

Tim takes a deep breath, and picks out ginger, cinnamon and - 

“Gingerbread?” he asks, surprised, and not a little pleased. 

Dick's grin gets even wider, if that's possible. “A little bird told me you liked them.”

Tim snorts, because Steph is a _meddler_. “I. Thanks,” he says, sure his fair skin is betraying him as he takes a sip, rolling the flavors over his tongue.

Dick leans a hip against the counter, watching him, eyebrows looking anxious.

“It's good,” Tim says, smiling in spite of himself at the look on Dick's face. “Great,” he amends, wondering how many cups Dick must have made to get it just the way Tim likes. Why he'd bother,

“Yeah?” Dick asks, looking pleased. 

Tim nods, feeling a warmth spread through him that's only partly due to the gingerbread latte. “Perfect.”


	19. Day 19: Family - Coterie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up, Tim didn't have the most traditional family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [Perk](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1095229).

Growing up, Tim didn't have the most traditional family. There was his mother and father, always away on business or a dig. There was the caretaker of the moment that never seemed to last too long, his mother finding fault in them for one reason or another. 

Too cold, too warm. Feeding Tim nothing but facts and numbers, filling his head with idle foolishness and fairytales.

Not exactly the kind of family every says someone should have, but for the longest time it was the only one he had. His parents still go off on trips now, staying away longer without Tim waiting for them at home to worry about. They have a better relationship now, and when Tim has time he'll fly out to wherever they are for a few days.

“Someone's got a boyfriend!”

Tim whips one of the throw cushions at Kon's head, but he's faster than he looks and dodges, laughing. 

“K-I-S-S - “

The second pillow hits its mark, cutting Kon off with a sputter.

Bart's curled up at the other end of the couch next to Cass laughing so hard Tim's worried he's going to hurt himself, gasping and wheezing, flapping a hand at Tim. Rolling her eyes fondly, Cass rolls him off the edge of the couch with a nudge of her foot.

“Where the hell is your waffle iron?” Steph yells from the kitchen.

Tim shakes his head as he gets up to help her find it before she tears the kitchen apart, stepping over Bart – chuckling weakly from the floor – as he does. 

He should have known Steph would be lying in wait for him, that she would have told the others. That none of them wouldn't let him get away without telling them everything.

Kon makes kissy faces at him as he walks by, and.

Tim didn't have the most traditional family growing up, but he's fine with that because he doesn't think something like that exists anyway, and if it did? He doesn't think it could possibly measure up to what he has now.


	20. Day 20: Christmas Tree - Evergreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wisely flees from the rapidly escalating argument over which _Wendy the Werewolf Stalker_ episode was better because he knows where that road leads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [Perk](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1095229) and [Coterie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1095381). (This 'verse seems to be a thing now.)

Tim wisely flees from the rapidly escalating argument over which _Wendy the Werewolf Stalker_ episode was better because he knows where that road leads. 

While he wouldn't mind watching the series again from the beginning with the others, he has a project due for one of his classes at the end of the week. There just aren't enough hours in the day to marathon the show, work on his project and other things like sleeping and eating.

The shop's almost empty, which might be why Dick's broken out the arts and crafts materials. That, or - 

“Uncle Tim!”

Tim smiles as Lian looks up from where she's very carefully painting a stack of the shop's paper cups a dark shade of green. From what he can see, she's getting just as much of the pain on her as the cups, and doesn't mind one little bit if the smile on her face is anything to go by.

“Hi, Lian, Dick,” he says. 

He's long given up on stopping Dick from getting her to call him that, knowing that 's a losing battle. Roy doesn't mind, and like Dick believes the more aunts and uncles Lian has, the better.

Dick beams at him, oblivious to the little streak of green paint on his forehead. “Tim! You're just in time, want to help?”

Tim takes the scene in, old newspapers laid out on several of the back tables. A handful of painted cups have been set aside to let the paint dry, while another holds a far larger number that need to be painted, Lian and Dick seated at one of the tables with containers of paint in front of them, brushes firmly in hand. 

“That depends,” Tim says, directing his question at Lian. “What are you doing?”

Lian gives Tim the big sad-eyed look she has to have learned from Dick, and Tim knows there's no way he can say no, but. Dick's watching him, tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he pushes out a chair for Tim because he knows the power of her puppy dog eyes.

“We're making a [Christmas tree](http://blog.openstudy.com/2010/03/31/siddharth-and-the-coffee-cup-christmas-tree/) for the shop!” Lian says, throwing her arms wide, drops of paint flying from the brush she's holding. “You're going to help, right?”

Tim looks at Dick, sporting new flecks of paint and a rueful smile. Looks at Lian and her hopeful smile and puppy dog eyes. Thinks about the project that isn't due for a few days, and Christmases past when the people in his life were too busy to spend time with him.

“Of course I will,” he answers, and doesn't wonder that Dick just happens to have an extra apron at the table ready and waiting for him.


	21. Day 21: Candlelight - Reservations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Grayson says, sliding into the seat across from Tim. “Come here often?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the same 'verse as [Groundwork](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1052640) and [Momentum](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1063208).

“So,” Grayson says, sliding into the seat across from Tim. “Come here often?”

Tim gives him a look. “You're not supposed to be here,” he points out. Tim had been very clear on that, and if he finds out Steph or Jason had anything to do with this, heads are going to roll.

Dick leans back in his chair and spreads his hands in a _what can I say?_ kind of way. “I like their desserts,” he says. “And you didn't answer the question, Detective Drake.”

Tim's been to restaurants like this one before, all polished wood and brass and dim lighting to accommodate the elegant white candles at each table. Crisp linen napkins and delicate glassware and beautiful place settings.

“The company's usually better,” he says, glancing around the room. “But I suppose you'll do.” 

It's on the tip of his tongue to say that Grayson cleans up nicely, but that would be unfair because the man always looks good. Put him in a suit, however - 

“You should see me in a tuxedo,” Grayson says, like he knows what Tim's thinking. 

Tim raises an eyebrow. He's supposed to meet with someone who claims to have information into the latest case he's working on, things they felt were too delicate to be told over the phone. The agreed upon meeting time is nearly past and - 

“Grayson,” Tim says, going back over the details of the case in his mind. “What are you doing here?”

Grayson hasn't been around the station as much the past few days, running around doing press junkets for his new book. Smiling and glad-handing while Tim and the others dealt with another high-profile murder. 

Grayson smiles, sheepishly. “I, ah.” He rubs the back of his neck, and Tim _knows_.

“ _Grayson_ ,” Tim hisses. “You can't withhold - “

“I didn't know until this afternoon,” Grayson cuts in, holding his hands up placatingly. “Honestly, I didn't know. And when I did, I.” He sighs, shoulders slumping. “I really couldn't tell you about it over the phone.”

Tim's gotten to know Grayson well enough to know when he's telling the truth. “Why here?” he asks, anger settling. 

Grayson watches him, gauging his mood for a moment. “I missed seeing your handsome face?” he says, voice going up at the end, like he knows that's not going to fly with Tim. And then, “I really do like their dessert. Have you tried their tiramisu?”

Tim _looks_ at him. Grayson looks back, still with that smile firmly in place.

“I could arrest you for obstruction,” Tim says, anger draining out of him. “Pull some strings, call in favors to keep you behind bars where even Bruce can't reach you until this case is over.”

Grayson actually looks worried for a moment, which is all-over gratifying, if a little petty.

“So that's a no, then?” Grayson asks, which.

“I _will_ shoot you one of these days,” Tim says, idle threat and Grayson knows it, but it's familiar and comfortable.

Grayson grins at him, and Tim. Tim is so very much in over his head with Grayson it's not even funny.


	22. Day 22: Snowman - Tokens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't happen very often, but there are times when a case will take Tim out of Gotham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [Drake Investigations](http://archiveofourown.org/series/21207) 'verse.

It doesn't happen very often, but there are times when a case will take Tim out of Gotham. It didn't use to be a problem, before the whole situation with Dick that somehow turned into _this_ , but now.

Now Tim's been out of town digging through the dirty laundry and uncovering closet skeletons of one of Gotham's oldest families that's earned him new bruises and a sprained ankle, and he's tired. 

Tim's tired of bland hotel rooms and polite smiles to go with words sharper than any knife always aimed at his back. He's tired of terrible coffee and stale pastries and late nights. Tired of being able to hear Dick's voice at the other end of the phone line at night but not see his face, see his smile when he tells Tim about his day. (Tired of a strange hotel room in a strange city and always in the back of his mind Gotham and Dick and _home_.)

If it was up to Tim, he'd be headed home now, case solved, all parties involved either dead, in jail, or otherwise not best pleased. There's just the matter of tying up loose ends, like smoothing over the ruffled feathers of the local police department if he ever wants to set foot in this city again. 

In all honesty, Tim doesn't care, but Drake Industries has interests in this city and Tam will kill him if he messes this up.

He blames his exhaustion for not noticing at first, but something's not right, and it's not just because there's a snow globe sitting on the coffee table that wasn't there when he left.

A quick search of the rooms shows it to be empty, and Tim makes his way back to the main room. He picks the snow globe up, and pauses.

It's lightweight, and incredibly tacky. Cheap plastic with a horrible rendered version of Gotham's cityscape done in a cartoonish style with a little plastic snowman Batman striking a pose while the Bat Signal shines over the city. 

Tim remembers seeing some like that at the airport in Gotham while waiting for his flight to start boarding, idly wandering through the gift shops to kill time.

“I looked but they didn't have any with me in them,” Dick says, stepping into the room from wherever he's been hiding. 

Tim's heart is used to things like this, after dealing with Dick and the rest of his family for this long, but it still doesn't appreciate surprises like this one. 

“Hey,” Dick says, light and easy. 

Tim stares at him. 

“Gotham's been kind of quiet lately,” he continues, “and I think Jason and Damian were ready to kill me.” 

The _So I went looking for you_ , goes unspoken, but Tim hears it perfectly fine. He's had something like that trapped in his throat for days now, held back by duty and responsibility, the knowledge that he had a job to do.

Looking at him, Tim can see why Jason and Damian might not be happy with him. Dick's hiding it well, but he's restless, wants to fidget, and the way he's looking at Tim - 

“I wonder why,” Tim says, giving the snow globe a little shake that sends the bat shaped sequins into a flurry of movement. 

Dick huffs, giving into his desire to move as he cuts through the last remaining distance between them, hands coming up to frame Tim's face. 

“I missed you,” he says, with a rueful laugh. “I think I was even getting to _Alfred_.”

Tim can't help but smile at that. “Sounds terrible.”

Dick nods, happy where he is, “Horrible,” he agrees, watching Tim.

“Awful,” Tim says, meaning it. 

“The worst,” Dick says, leaning down to kiss Tim. “We probably shouldn't do that again, for their sake.”

Tim hums in agreement, letting Dick pull him closer, perfectly okay with that.


	23. Day 23: Eggnog - Celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tam's a big proponent of doing what they can to keep office morale up, which includes dragging Tim to the company Christmas party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the [These Things I've Found](http://archiveofourown.org/series/25372)  
> 'verse.

Tam's a big proponent of doing what they can to keep office morale up, which includes dragging Tim to the company Christmas party.

“I really don't think this is a good idea,” Tim says, trying to free himself from Tam's grip. “The last thing they want to see right now is the boss, Tam.”

Tam doesn't let go of him, just bulls past little clumps of people Tim vaguely recognizes to a section of the room where - 

“Oh my God,” Tim breathes. “This is a terrible idea.”

Pru and Jason smirk at Tim, holding up little paper cups in mock salute while he stares helplessly. They're both in business casual, something that hides the various weapons on their persons nicely and blends in with the other employees. (Something that doesn't scream trained killer and dangerous vigilante and completely crazy.)

“Tam - “

“Boss lady invited us about the company party,” Jason says, smirk just daring Tim to comment. “How could we refuse?”

 _Easily_ , Tim doesn't say, knowing that's in no way true. Tam's nearly impossible to refuse when she isn't trying.

“Really.”

Pru nods, all wide eyes and faux innocence. “There were cards, Boss.” She leans in, eyes full of the vicious sort of glee she takes in making Tim's life difficult. “ _Calligraphy_.”

Tim cuts a look at Tam who is looking right back at him, eyebrow raised. It's the look she gets when he's about to say something stupid, one that demands that he rethink his life choices before he opens his mouth to speak.

“Wonderful,” he says, and looks at what Pru and Jason are drinking. “Just out of curiosity, what did you spike the eggnog with?”

And there's Jason's dangerous smile, tempered with amusement. “You'll find out when these guys have had a few glasses,” he says, which is the opposite of reassuring.

The only consolation is that Harper and Cullen aren't there, off overseeing a little side project for Tam in Metropolis and due back the next afternoon. He doesn't want to know what might happen if they were actively involved in this.

Tim looks at Tam again, beseeching. She rolls her eyes at him and says, “Just stay for the first hour, let them see you appreciate their hard work,” she says. “Give a little speech.”

“Dance a little dance?” Pru asks, still with that wholly disturbing innocent look on her face, like she's not enjoying this.

“Not funny,” Tim sighs, knowing when he's beat. “Just. Please, don't do anything that might get the press interested.”

Pru and Jason share a look that has Tim regretting his words because that leaves the two of them with a whole slew of options. 

“Don't kill anyone,” he says, and lets Tam sweep him up in her little mission to let the employees of Drake Industries know their boss appreciates them and the hard work they do.

********

The moment he gets the chance, Tim makes a bid for the penthouse, slinging his suit jacket on the back of the couch and loosening his tie as he heads for the balcony and fresh air. He trails a finger on one of Serena's delicate leaves, pets Venus' upper jaw in greeting.

“Hello, ladies,” he says, smiling to himself when they curl toward him, leaves and vines rustling softly.

An insistent meow at ankle level makes him look down to see Mr. Whiskers looking up at him balefully, getting a quiet laugh out of him. “Hello to you too, handsome,” he says, crouching to scratch behind his ears.

Mr. Whiskers sniffs, scarred ear swiveling towards him as Tim talks softly, nothing of any great importance, just sorting out his thoughts.

After a few moments he moves to put the balcony railing at his back, Mr. Whiskers settling in his lap for petting and scratches, the deep bass rumble of his purring and occasional whisper of sound from the flytraps leeching the last of the tension out of him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Dick says, swinging up over the balcony railing to peer down at him.

Tim glances at him, smile curving his lips. “Yes,” he says, “who would have expected.”

Dick tips his head to the side, studying Tim. “Long day?”

“The coup is coming,” Tim says. Tam used to listen when he said no. Or maybe it was that she humored him and then went ahead with whatever she intended to do without him knowing. (That last is actually more probably, given how well he knows her.)

Dick laughs, dropping down to lean against Tim, suit cool through the fabric of Tim’s shirt. “I'm sure they'll be merciful.”

Tim looks at him, knowing that no, they won't. He's scared them too many times in the past with his various plots and schemes.

Dick must see that knowledge on his face, though, because he just smiles and pulls until Tim slumps against him, arms snaking around his waist, enjoying the quiet moment neither of them get enough in in their lives.


	24. Day 24: Silent Night - Refraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham hasn't been the same since Bruce died, wind cutting through her back alleys and across her rooftops a little colder, a sharper bite to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the new [Catlad!Tim](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1079777) 'verse.

Gotham hasn't been the same since Bruce died, wind cutting through her back alleys and across her rooftops a little colder, a sharper bite to it. She's quieter, now, what little light she had left harder to see, making it easier for the shadows to spread.

Tim steps lighter now than he ever has, avoids the shadows in favor of Gotham's light, metaphorical and literal, and has to laugh at himself a little when more often than not when it leads him into situations like this one.

“I'm really not in the mood to deal with your antics tonight,” Dick says, more weariness than amusement as he looks over the city, moon shining bright above them.

“Antics?” Tim says, “I'd like to think I rate a little higher than that,” the playful tone in his voice is subdued in deference to the hushed air that's fallen over Gotham in the wake of a heavy snowfall.

Dick turns to look at him, and for some reason Tim finds it easier to read him with the cowl than without.

He's still second-guessing himself, questioning if he's honoring Bruce's memory by doing this, carrying on his legacy the way he would have wanted. If he isn't losing himself a little more each time he puts the suit on.

“Can't I just be out for a little moonlight stroll?” Tim asks, cocking his head to the side. “It's a lovely night.”

Lovely, and sad, empty. Gotham's noise and movement and chaos, painfully alive and breathing in the ebb and flow of her people. Like this, shrouded in silence, held immobile by the snow and ice, it's terrifying.

“You?” There's a faint smile now. “You're always planning something.”

Tim inclines his head, silent acknowledgment. Where Selina is more spontaneity and impulsiveness, thrill of the challenge, Tim's research and careful planning, running the numbers in his head. (That isn't to say they haven't learned anything from one another over the years, however.)

“You should be home with the little demon brat,” he says. “Second-guessing yourself doesn't do you any good.”

He can feel Dick watching him, keeping him in sight as he walks to the edge of the roof and back, keeping a certain distance between them. Tim hasn't done anything (that Dick knows of) that might spur him into crime fighting mode, but he's learned it's better to be prepared for any eventuality.

“Oh? Maybe I was out for a moonlight stroll of my own,” Dick says, but his heart's not in it.

Tim stops. Looks back at Dick. “Really?” he asks. 

Dick just looks at him.

Tim nods to himself as he makes another circuit of the roof, slowing as he reaches the edge again, glancing down.

Cats always land on their feet, but Bats. 

Sometimes they need a little help, even if they won't ask for it.

Selina likes to say he was more Bat than Cat at the beginning, allover too somber and serious a child, but he's changed since then with what Selina's taught him. He likes to think it's for the better, but he's sure Dick wouldn't agree. 

Still.

Dick makes a surprised noise when the loosely packed snowball hits him in the face, breaking apart on impact.

“Did you really just do that?” he demands, incredulous because really, who throws a snowball at the goddamned Batman?

Tim smirks, crouching low to gather more snow into his hands. “You really should know me better than that,” he answers, laughter clear in his voice as he hurls another snowball at him before vaulting off the edge of the roof, Dick giving chase.

He can't give Dick the answers he's looking for, can't do anything but this, and hope it's enough.


	25. Day 25: Baby, It’s Cold Outside/Let it Snow - Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he was younger it was a much bigger deal for Tim when his parents couldn't make it home from whatever part of the world they were in for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [Perk](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1095229), [Coterie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1095381), and [Evergreen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/580485/chapters/1095756).

When he was younger it was a much bigger deal for Tim when his parents couldn't make it home from whatever part of the world they were in for Christmas. He learned not to show his disappointment as he got older, telling himself it wasn't important, that his parents still loved him but they were busy people. (That didn't make it okay, but it helped dull the edge of hurt a little.)

He knows what Kon and the others think about his parents, from what little he's told them about his childhood, and even that forcibly dragged out of him. It's why the others take turns asking Tim to come home with them over long breaks, not wanting to leave him alone when he could be with people who loved him.

This time, though, Tim has a good reason for begging off.

He tips his head to look up at the sky, dark and gray, snow falling thick and heavy. “White Christmas for sure this year,” he says to himself, wondering if Bart's checking the weather in Keystone City, and shakes the thought off when a snowflake lands in his eye, sharp and cold.

He walks a little more until the lights of the coffee shop come into view, a warm glow bleeding out into the colorless night. When Tim gets closer he can see moving around inside, wiping down tables and dancing to some song playing on the radio he keeps in the back of the shop. 

Tim's sure the only one who doesn't know hoe he feels about Dick is _Dick_. He doubts Jason would have told him Dick was planning on keeping the shop open late for last-minute shoppers on Christmas Eve while everyone else went home early.

He knows Dick's headed back to the manor to be with Bruce and Alfred for Christmas Day, but there's something about being alone on Christmas Eve, too. Tim watches for a little longer than necessary, wondering if Dick will see this as an intrusion into his life, worrying that - 

“Tim?”

Dick's standing in the open doorway of the coffee shop, looking at Tim with a worried expression. “Is everything okay?” Dick asks.

Tim holds up the bag of takeout he'd gotten on the way. “I thought you might be hungry,” he says, smiling a little. The shop sells pastries and other baked good, so it's possible he's not.

Dick blinks at him, and then he _smiles_. “Starving,” he says. “Come in before you freeze.”

Tim smiles back, letting Dick take hold of his coat sleeve, tugging him along as he swipes snow from Tim’s hair and shoulders, hands lingering a little too long, spots of heat against Tim's skin. 

Tim helps Dick set everything down on a table next to the coffee cup Christmas tree he helped make facing the street where they can watch the falling snow while they eat. Tim finds himself relaxing when Dick sits next to him and starts in on a story about Jason's first Christmas at the manor, warmth coming off him chasing away the last of the winter's chill.


End file.
